


Infinite is Where We Live

by shions_heart



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (more or less), Anxiety Disorder, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Growing Up Together, M/M, References to Depression, Slow Build, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 09:50:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7503760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shions_heart/pseuds/shions_heart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes the people we love can't see themselves clearly. They're blinded by the lies their minds tell them.</p><p>So we help them them to see; through our love and our actions, we show them how important and appreciated they are.</p><p>Kenma tries his best to do this for Kuro.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Infinite is Where We Live

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Eicinic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eicinic/gifts).



> From the moment Gin told me she wanted to swap commissions, I knew I had to do something big. Something worthy of all the love and generosity and care that she gives to me and to others. She gave me a beautiful piece of art, and I can only hope that I've been able to do the same with this piece.
> 
> Gin, you are so important to me. Your life is so important. You work so hard, in your art and just in general, yet you take the time to share yourself with others. To encourage them and spread positivity and warmth and love.
> 
> I hope you can feel my appreciation and my love in this fic. /)u(\ and I hope you have a wonderful birthday. <3

 

 

 

 

with every heartbeat i have left  
i'll defend your every breath  
'cause you are loved,  
you are loved more than you know  
i hereby pledge all of my days  
to prove it so

\--sleeping at last, "light"

* * *

 

 

 

Beneath the porch it's dark and quiet. The dirt is soft, cool against Kenma's skin. He lies on his stomach, his 3DS held out in front of him, the volume muted. He heard his mother calling for him earlier, but he remained still and silent in his hiding spot until she gave up. She knows he'll appear when he's ready.

The peace is shattered in the form of a volleyball, as it rolls beneath the porch, bumping against his side. He shifts to blink down at it. He doesn't own a volleyball. It doesn't make sense for it to be here. From the yard comes a soft _thud_ , followed by a quiet yelp. Kenma stiffens, and not one minute later, two pairs of feet appear in front of him, followed by knees covered in Band-Aids, and then a head full of thick black hair standing up wildly. An arm reaches beneath the porch, searching, no doubt, for the volleyball. It comes dangerous close to touching Kenma, however, and he shrinks back with a soft noise of dismay.

The head lifts, displaying a young face, a boy, possibly the same age as Kenma, possibly a little older. His eyes widen in surprise, as they meet Kenma's, and in the dim light they glow: flecks of gold shimmering in a dark surface. Kenma hesitantly tilts his DS screen to see him better. The boy flinches at first, but then his features relax, and he gives Kenma a crooked grin. His canine is sharp, and there's a sprinkling of freckles across his nose.

It's a nice face, a nice smile, and Kenma feels his heart pound just a little faster at the sight.

"Hey, what are you doing under here? Is this a special hiding place?"

Kenma nods, because it is, and he watches as the boy glances over his shoulder briefly before turning back to him. "Can I come in here with you?"

Normally Kenma doesn't let anyone share his special hiding places. Not even his parents. All his potential friends that his mother introduced him to stopped playing with him after he would run off and hide and not let them find him. But for some reason, he finds himself moving to the side and allowing the boy to crawl beneath the porch and settle beside him. He takes the volleyball, moving it out of the way and folding his arms on it. He rests his head on his arms then, before turning to look at him with another crooked smile.

"I'm Tetsurou. Kuroo Tetsurou."

Kenma blinks at him. "Kuroo sounds like kuro," he murmurs, and he takes in the black hair and dark eyes and finds it fitting. He's new, and new things feel dangerous, scary. Like darkness. Yet Kenma has always found comfort in the quiet stillness of the dark.

Kuroo's smile widens into a grin. "Yeah, I guess! What's your name?"

Kenma ducks his head, suddenly shy in the face of that grin. Kuroo looks at him with such _interest_. Like he's a rare gemstone he's just uncovered beneath the dirt. Kenma runs his finger along his DS, allowing his hair to swing forward and hide his face.

"Kozume. Kenma."

"That's a cute name! Do you know volleyball? I just moved here, and I don't have any friends yet or anyone to play volleyball with."

Kenma shakes his head. He's never been much into sports, and he doesn't believe he'll be very good at them so it seems pointless to make the effort. He turns back to his game pointedly, and Kuroo seems to get the implication.

"I guess you like coming under here and playing that, huh?" Kuroo lifts his head to look around the space beneath the porch. "This is nice though. I like dark, quiet places too. People can be loud . . ." He blinks suddenly, jerking upward and slamming his head against the wooden planks above them. He grimaces, flopping back down and rubbing his head, while Kenma watches with some alarm.

"Sorry!" he exclaims. "You probably wanted to be in here alone, and I ruined that! Crap, I'm sorry. I'll go."

He starts to crawl out from under the porch, but Kenma reaches out quickly and curls his fingers around his sleeve. Kuroo freezes, looking down at his hand in surprise before lifting his gaze to his face.

"You sure it's okay?"

Kenma nods. He's not completely confident he knows why he likes Kuroo's presence when most people he avoids. His personal bubble is thick and sensory overload is a common problem for him. But he doesn't feel anxious with Kuroo beside him. His skin isn't crawling unpleasantly, and he doesn't feel short of breath. If anything, he feels calmer than usual, like Kuroo's comforting him simply by being there.

Kenma likes being alone, but the pang he feels in his chest at the thought of Kuroo leaving tells him that maybe he's been lonely this whole time and never truly realized it.

Kuroo settles back down beside him, watching him curiously. "I didn't mean to interrupt your game though. Can I watch you play?"

Kenma finds himself smiling faintly at the prospect, and he scoots just a little closer to Kuroo in order for the other boy to see his screen. Kuroo's wild, dark hair tickles his cheek, and a strange fluttering feeling enters his stomach, but Kenma easily ignores it, as he resumes the game and begins to play.

 

 

 

***

 

 

His mother has to drag him to see the neighbors. He can tell she's frustrated. She wants him to make friends, and she says the new neighbors have a son around his age. Kenma isn't interested in meeting the new neighbor's son. He doubts the kid will like him anyway. None of the boys in his block seems to. They write him off as shrimpy and weird. He tells himself he doesn't care (he does).

He'd rather be playing his 3DS anyway. He has Pokémon to collect. Briefly, he lets himself wonder if he'll get to see Kuro again, but that entire day feels somewhat like a dream. He's not sure if he made him up out of loneliness or not. It's been close to a week, and Kenma hasn't seen him anywhere. The thought that he might not be real upsets him and puts him in a foul mood.

So he flops to the floor when his mother tries to pick him up, he digs his heels in and pulls back against her hand, until she threatens to take away his DS. Then he stands, scowling, and stomps his way beside her to the house a few doors down.

The woman who opens the door has a nice face. When she smiles it makes her eyes sparkle. Kenma likes that, but he's not going to show it or admit it. Instead, he turns his eyes to the ground, his hair swinging forward to hide his face, as his mother introduces herself and him.

"I saw you had a son around Kenma's age," his mother says. "I hope you don't find me too forward, but I was hoping they could be playmates. Kenma struggles to make friends at school."

Kenma wouldn't call it a struggle so much as a lack of interest in any of the children at his elementary school. They're all so loud and annoying. Constantly screaming, crying, taking things from each other, hitting each other . . . it's complete chaos, selfishness reigning supreme, and Kenma wishes he was homeschooled.

"Oh, of course," the woman says. She turns away, calling into the house. "Tetsu! Come to the front door, please!"

Kenma twitches. Why does that name sound familiar?

He hears the patter of small footsteps, and when he takes a chance and looks up, he finds himself looking into the face of Kuro.

Kenma feels his lips part, astonishment filling him, followed quickly by joy.

Kuro stares back at him, his lips curling into that already familiar crooked grin. "It's you!"

Kenma's mother gives him a soft nudge, but Kenma doesn't need to be prompted. He steps forward immediately, taking Kuro's hand and clinging to it. His mother seems surprised.

"He doesn't usually like people touching him," she explains. "Kenma, have you met Tetsu-chan already?"

Kenma nods, embarrassed with all the eyes looking at him now. He pushes his face against Kuro's shoulder.

"I lost my volleyball, and he helped me find it!" Kuro says proudly. He gives Kenma's hand a firm squeeze, and then a tug. "Come on! I'll show you my room."

Leaving their mothers to talk, Kuro pulls Kenma further into the house. Kenma allows himself to be dragged, keeping his eyes on the floor beneath his feet. He took off his shoes by the door, and the carpet that leads into the hallway is soft under his feet. They reach hard-wood floors once they get to the bedrooms, however, but it's swept neatly, and Kenma feels no dirt sticking to his skin.

"I want to show you something," Kuro says, his voice lowered in hushed excitement.

Curious, Kenma lifts his gaze, as Kuro uses his free hand to open a door that leads into a small bedroom. There's a futon up against the far wall, sans blankets and pillow. Confused as to where they might be, Kenma's eyes scan the rest of the room. There's a bookshelf full of manga, comics, and actual books up against the wall closest to the bed, a closet door beside it. Against the other wall, beneath the window, is a desk.

And there are the missing blankets and pillows. Draped over the desk and chair, weighed down by _more_ books, two blankets create a tiny cave. The floor beneath the desk is covered with pillows, and Kuro releases Kenma's hand in order to crawl inside the cave of blankets. He kneels on the pillows and gestures for Kenma to join him.

He does slowly, scooting back against the wall beneath the desk, as Kuro reaches up to tug down a side of the blanket to cut off the entrance. Instantly the light dims, and while it's a little stuffy it's also rather cozy. Kuro picks up an electric torch and flicks it on, shining the beam of light into Kenma's face.

He flinches, and Kuro quickly lowers the beam away.

"Sorry," he says, but he's grinning. "Isn't this cool? I was inspired by your secret hiding place. I wanted to make one of my own! It's kind of nice, having a hiding place. It's like . . . the bad things can't touch you here. I can pretend I'm somewhere far far away. And my books help, see?"

Reaching to the side, he picks up an American comic book, waving it in front of Kenma's face. "I like stories with heroes in them," he says. "I think I want to be a superhero when I grow up. What do you want to be?"

Kenma blinks. He's never really thought of it before. Growing up seems so far away. So in the end he shrugs.

"You should be a superhero with me," Kuro says with a grin.

Kenma shakes his head. "Superheroes are supposed to be fearless."

Kuro tilts his head. "I don't think they're supposed to be _fearless_. I think they're just supposed to . . . fight the bad guys even _when_ they're scared. That's what makes them heroic!" He bites his lip, glancing toward the comic. "Helping people even when they don’t think they can win. Even when they think they're not good enough . . ."

Kenma stares at Kuro, feeling like he's missing something. But before he can figure out what to ask, Kuro's lifted his head, and he's grinning again.

"I think you could be one, Kenma!"

Kenma's skeptical, but as he looks into Kuro's confident smile he's willing to believe him.

 

 

 

***

 

 

When school starts again, Kenma's reluctant to go. He drags his feet while his mother helps him get ready for the day, and she practically has to push him out the door. Hunching forward, he stomps down the driveway toward the sidewalk, wondering if he can get lost in the woods and just never show up to school.

But then he hears the sound of running feet behind him.

"Kenma! Kenma, wait up!"

He pauses, turning to watch Kuro run toward him, his backpack bouncing on his back. He's grinning, and when he stops beside Kenma he's breathless but still smiling.

"You gotta walk to school with me! I've never been to this one before. I might get lost! So you gotta hold my hand, okay?" He holds his hand out toward Kenma.

Kenma looks at it a moment, not sure why his stomach feels like it's flipping over itself. Slowly, he reaches out to take the proffered hand. Kuro immediately wraps his fingers around his and gives it a squeeze. They start walking again, Kuro swinging their hands absently between them.

"I think I'm older than you, so I won't get to be in your class. That's what my mom told me, anyway. It's not fair! I want to be with Kenma-chan. I don't know anyone else there. What if they don't like me?"

Kenma gives him a look that makes it obvious he thinks such a notion is ridiculous.

"Hey, I'm not as cool as I look, okay? You saw my room."

Kenma shakes his head, pretty sure that what he saw of Kuro's room could definitely be classified as cool. In fact, Kuro's probably the coolest person he's ever met.

Before he can say as much, however, they turn the corner and arrive at the elementary school. Kuroo releases Kenma's hand, hopping a few steps ahead in order to turn around and face him. "I'll come find you at lunch, okay?"

Kenma nods, his chest aching at the separation. Kuroo waves with another smile before turning and taking off toward the school. Kenma follows more slowly, his feet dragging once more. Everything seems duller without Kuro, he's noticed. It's like as soon as he leaves the colors of the world grow muted into grayish tones. Has it always been this way? Had he been seeing things in black and white before Kuro came into his life?

He's only known Kuro for a few weeks, but already he knows that he doesn't like being apart from him.

At lunchtime, Kenma goes to his favorite spot beneath the largest tree in the courtyard. He opens his bento on his knees, smiling faintly when he sees his mom has packed him a slice of apple pie along with his rice and curry. It smells delicious, but before he can dig in three shadows fall across him.

He flinches preemptively before a shoe kicks his lightly.

"Yo, Kozume-kun. You got something good for us today?"

Kenma hunches over his bento, trying to shield it from the older boys. He bites his lip hard, staring down at the grass, his stomach twisting in knots. It's been happening every day since the start of the school year. These guys zeroed in on Kenma as an easy target and have made his lunch breaks miserable. They're his senpai, older by only a year, but that gap might as well be decades long for how small and young they make him feel.

"Lemme see it!" The leader of the three, a tall boy named Nakahara, grabs the bento from Kenma's lap, using his bare finger to poke into the curry, bringing it up for a taste. "It's good! I think I'll have it. Thanks, Kozume-kun. I can always count on you having the good stuff."

The boys snicker between them, and Kenma's stomach growls pathetically. He curls his fingers into fists, but he can't bring himself to stand, to face them, to demand his food back. He feels sick. He wants to hide. He wants to go home.

And then,

"Hey! Give that back to him!"

Kenma lifts his head, looking through watery eyes to see Kuro racing across the courtyard. He runs right up to Nakahara and snatches the bento from his grasp.

"What are you doing? That's not yours!"

"Kozume-kun always lets us have his lunch," Nakahara states, hands on his hips. "We're his senpai. He likes helping us out, don’t you Kozume-kun?"

Kenma trembles, as the boy looks down at him with a malicious smile. But then Kuro steps in front of him, blocking his view.

"Leave him alone. He doesn't have to do anything for you. Senpai should take care of their kouhai not the other way around!"

"What do _you_ know? I've never seen you before."

"I'm new," Kuro says, crossing his arms. "And from now on you're going to leave Kenma alone."

Nakahara steps forward, shoving his face into Kuro's. "Oh yeah? Who's going to make me?"

Kuro's back tenses, and Kenma can sense that something bad is about to happen. He tries to think of what he can do to stop the fight before it happens, but before he can do anything, Nakahara's shoved Kuro in the chest, and Kuro retaliates with a quick punch to the nose.

Immediately Nakahara goes down, holding his bloody face and crying. His friends drop down beside him to comfort him, and Kuro's expression is dark, his lips a thin line. Kenma grabs his hand and tugs quickly. They need to get away before a teacher comes to investigate the noise. Kuro looks down at him, and his face softens.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

_I feel like I should be asking you that._

Kenma stands, tugging again on his hand. Kuro moves willingly, allowing Kenma to lead him away from the crying Nakahara. He takes him back into the school where they can be alone. Kuro leans against the wall in the hall, sighing and sliding to the floor. Kenma crouches beside him, watching his face and biting his lip.

"Don't worry, Kenma. I'll make sure they never bother you again," Kuro says, giving him a crooked smile.

"I don't want you to get in trouble," Kenma admits softly.

"I said don't worry!" Kuro jabs at his chest with his thumb. "I can handle myself around a couple bullies."

Kenma sighs, moving to sit next to him. Kuro's grin slips away after a moment, and he grimaces.

"Oh. We forgot your bento outside."

Kenma shakes his head, not feeling very hungry anymore. He pulls his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around them. Kuro nudges him gently with his elbow.

"You can come to my house for dinner, okay?"

Kenma nods. They sit there together until the bell rings and they have to leave for their separate classes. Kenma sees Kuro being pulled aside by his teacher, the woman's face stern. He lifts up a silent prayer to whatever god is listening that Kuro doesn't get into too much trouble, before ducking into his own classroom.

Time passes and Kuro's reputation as a troublemaker at school only grows. Kenma tries to get him to stop, to leave the bullies alone, but Kuro's stubborn in his role as Kenma's defender, and the fights continue.

The thing is this: Kenma's used to being bullied. He knows the kids think he's weird. He knows he's different from the others and people are afraid of things that are different. They lash out in their fear, trying to alienate the thing that's different, to keep it away from them. Kenma knows this and has accepted it. But now here's Kuro, brave, wonderful, _kind_ Kuro. No matter what Kenma says, he won't stand for the other kids treating Kenma cruelly.

And so he punches those who try to hurt Kenma, he shoves and kicks and bites, and then takes his scolding with his chin lifted, apologetic for causing a ruckus, but not sorry for defending Kenma. Kenma notices after a while that Kuro never hurts the bullies until they've laid a hand on him first, but he doesn't think that matters to their authority figures.

One night, several months after this has been going on, Kenma lies with Kuro beneath his fort in his house, staring up at the underside of the desk. Kuro's playing with a toy airplane, moving it through the air above them and making engine noises with his mouth. Kenma chews on his finger, watching him quietly. There's still bruising around Kuro's left eye from the last fight he got into, and Kenma's stomach clenches at the sight of it. He reaches up with his other hand, touching it lightly with his fingertips.

Kuro's features flinch, and Kenma snatches his hand back quickly.

"Sorry," he mumbles around his finger.

Kuro shakes his head. "It's fine."

"I don't want you to fight anymore."

Kuro sighs. They've had this conversation before. "I'm not going to stand around doing nothing when people try to hurt you. That's not what a superhero does."

"But what if your mom gets really mad and makes you stop playing with me?"

Kuro shakes his head again. "She won't. I told her everything. And anyway, she likes you." He grins faintly.

"What about your dad?" Kenma still hasn't met the man. Up until recently he wasn't sure that he even existed.

He gets the feeling Kuro doesn't like talking about him.

Sure enough, Kuro grimaces. "He thinks I get the bruises from playing volleyball. It's fine."

Kenma falls silent, biting hard into his skin until Kuro reaches over to take his hand, pulling his finger out of his mouth.

"It's fine, Kenma," Kuro says softly. "I promise."

Kenma does his best to believe him.

 

 

 

***

 

 

Years pass and although the fights start to become less frequent (the bullies have started to realize that they shouldn't mess with Kuro), Kenma still feels indebted to Kuro. He's made his elementary school life tolerable, something he never thought possible. He's brought color and laughter and fun into his life. Kenma doesn't know how to repay him. He's not sure there's anything he can do to repay him.

He wants to be there for Kuro too. He wants to be the comforter, instead of always being the comforted. But Kuro never stops smiling with him. He never appears upset or sad or angry. It's like he's trying to shield Kenma from seeing him at his worst. Doesn't he realize that Kenma won't care? That he doesn't always need to be a superhero? That he can be human too?

It changes one night, when Kuro is ten and Kenma is nine. It's dark outside, after midnight, and Kenma hears a light tapping on his window. He lowers his PSP and sits up, squinting to adjust to the darkness. When he sees Kuro standing outside, his eyes widen. Scrambling off the bed, he drops his PSP to the floor, as he hurries to open the window.

"What are you doing?" he asks softly.

Kuro's still in his pajamas, Superman ones, though he's wearing his shoes. Upon closer inspection, Kenma sees that there are tearstains on his cheeks. His eyes widen further.

"Can I come in?" Kuro asks, and his voice is small.

Kenma nods, stepping back and giving Kuro room to climb in through the window. He shuts it afterwards, turning to look up at his friend then. Kuro doesn't meet his gaze, keeping his eyes on the floor.

"I'm sorry. I just . . . I didn't know where to go." His voice breaks, and he lifts his arm to hide his face, shoulders trembling.

Kenma bites his lip. Stepping forward, he reaches up to curl his fingers into the side of Kuro's pajama shirt, gripping it gently.

"My dad . . . he's leaving," Kuro says after a moment, lowering his arm. He continues to stare at the floor, his voice and eyes dull. "He told us this morning but . . . he and my mom had a big fight over it tonight. It's my fault. He wants to take me with him, but my mom wants to keep me. And I just . . . I just want them to stop fighting. I don't know how to make it better. I tried. I tried being a good son, but I didn't . . . I messed up. I must have messed up or something. I don't know. I don't know."

He starts crying, giant, ugly sobs that wrack his body. Guilt twists in Kenma's chest. When he thought about wanting to be there for Kuro, he never imagined a situation like this. He doesn't know what to do or what to say. He can't fix this. He can't keep Kuro's parents together, and now his best friend is sobbing in the middle of his room, and Kenma just feels helpless.

Tugging lightly on Kuro's shirt, he guides him to the bed. Kuro climbs up onto it without prompting, grabbing Kenma's pillow and hugging it to his chest. Kenma shakes his head, pulling the pillow away and lying down in front of him, shifting as close as he can in order to press his forehead against Kuro's. He can feel now the way Kuro's trembling. His chest aches.

He tries to think of what his mother does when he's crying. She strokes his hair and kisses his face. It doesn't make him stop crying, but it does help him feel loved and cared for. He can do that for Kuro.

Slowly, he lifts his hand, running his palm lightly over the back of Kuro's head. Puckering his lips, he starts kissing Kuro's cheeks, kissing away the tears. Kuro grows still, hiccupping softly.

"K-Kenma?" his voice is small, confused.

"It's okay. You're okay," Kenma murmurs against his flushed skin. It's what his mother always says. He continues stroking Kuro's hair, peppering his face with the tiny kisses.

Kuro's breathing is ragged, and he's still hiccupping but not sobbing as before. He reaches up to grab hold of Kenma's pajama top, clutching it tightly. Kenma shifts closer, continuing to murmur the words over and over, willing Kuro to believe them.

"You're okay. You're okay. I'm here now. I'm here."

Kuro trembles, pulling Kenma even closer. He presses his forehead firmly against Kenma's, inhaling shakily.

"D-don't leave me, okay?" Kuro says in quiet desperation, his eyes squeezed shut. "I-I can't lose you too."

Kenma watches his face, the tightness of his features, the salty stains on his cheeks. He tilts his head to place one final kiss against Kuro's lips, a light, chaste touch. "I won't," he promises.

_I'll always be here for you._

Eventually, Kuro's breathing evens out, as he falls into an exhausted sleep. Kenma lies awake a while longer, touching Kuro's face with his fingertips, tracing over the lines of it. He's starting to realize that Kuro's demons don't take the form of bullies or strangers or a world full of too much noise. His demons are inside him, in the corners of his mind, telling him lies and darkening his thoughts.

It's not his fault. Kenma hopes he comes to realize this.

 

Kuro seems embarrassed the next day, so Kenma doesn't bring it up, nor does he try to get him to stay when he says he has to go home. He watches from the living room window, though, as Kuro walks down the driveway, and his chest aches.

 

 

 

***

 

 

They enter middle-school, Kuro first, then Kenma a year later. Kuro's reputation follows him, and nobody tries to initiate fights with him. So he begins throwing himself into his volleyball, practicing rigorously when he's not studying. Kenma practices with him at home, tossing the ball for him and learning about the game through Kuro's enthusiastic explanations.

The superhero cape is back on, though he's wearing a different suit. Instead of defending Kenma, he's defending his team, his school, doing his best to block the rival teams' attacks to help his own team score. He's impressive to watch, Kenma can't deny that, but he knows now that that confident mask can't stay on forever.

Kuro comes to his room at least twice a week, nightmares plaguing his mind. He curls up beside Kenma on his bed and watches him play his PSP. Sometimes Kenma will tell him stories, fairy tales his mother used to read to him as a kid. He tells him facts he's learned in school, about animals, about the earth, about the sky.

Kuro likes the facts about the sky the best, and Kenma finds himself looking up more things about stars and galaxies to tell him during his late night visits.

"It's just so _big_ , you know?" Kuro says one night. "It goes on forever. Our problems are so _small_ in the grand scheme of things. So like, why even worry about it, right?" He grins over at Kenma, and Kenma nods in return, even though he knows Kuro will worry anyway.

He always worries. His mind is constantly moving, constantly buzzing. It's like his thoughts are fireflies trapped in a mason jar, darting to and fro and around and around and around. He tells Kenma that he likes being alone with him, because in Kenma's presence things grow calmer, quieter. Kenma takes his hand, lacing his fingers through Kuro's, and squeezes.

"I feel more solid with you. Like I won't break apart as long as you're here," Kuro murmurs softly before he drifts to sleep, and Kenma's heart pounds faster at the admission.

He doesn't know how to express himself in words. He's not good with them the way Kuro is. He's not sure how to explain to Kuro that he's become more than just a best friend to him. He's become a constant, an anchor, a north star. He's a cool breeze on a hot summer's day. He's a warm blanket when the snow piles on the streets. When Kuro's near, Kenma doesn't worry about what others think when they see him. He doesn't care about what they might whisper behind their hands, trying to figure out what's wrong with him.

With Kuro, he doesn't feel like anything's wrong with him. He feels normal. He feels safe.

He's gratified to know that Kuro feels safe with him too.

 

 

 

 

High school winds up more difficult, mostly because there's volleyball for him too. Kuro convinced him to join, though Kenma's still not entirely sure why he said yes. It's a lot of effort, more effort than Kenma's put toward anything physical his whole life. His mother is happy, because it gets him out of the house, and Kuro's happy to have his best friend by his side at practice, so Kenma does his best, even when the third years make him and the other first years to do all the cleaning. They don't lift a finger to help and laugh at their new teammates when they mess up.

When Kuro finds out, he's livid.

"I'll punch all their faces in," he declares.

"No," Kenma says, shaking his head. "I'll just leave. It's not a big deal. They don't need me there anyway. They don't _want_ me there. It's too much effort anyway."

Kuro looks down at him, surprised. "That's not true. You have a sharp eye, Kenma. You're really observant. You have the makings of an amazing setter. The other first years look up to you, and the second years see your skill, same as I do. They'll rally around you, I know they will. Stick it out, okay? Things will get better."

He says this with his usual confidence, and though Kenma's skeptical, he decides to believe him.

It turns out he's right. Things do get better. The third years graduate, and Kuro becomes the new captain. He makes Kenma the center of their formation, and like he said the others rally around him. He creates a stupid, embarrassing chant before the game; he calls Kenma the "brain" and the "heart" of their team, and each time Kenma's stomach flutters, though he pretends like it doesn't. Instead, he complains about it, but Kuro only grins at him.

Kuro keeps moving, keeps working. He becomes a blur in Kenma's vision, helping their coach come up with new plays, encouraging his teammates, practicing, studying, going to cram school. He even helps Kenma out with his studies, an extra boost that allows Kenma to pass every exam. Kenma's grateful for the help, but even so he can see how the stress is taking its toll on Kuro.

At night he paces back and forth in Kenma's room, rambling about what he needs to work on, volleyball strategies that are going through his brain, equations he has to memorize for his tests.

"Kuro, you're spazzing," Kenma observes one night.

"Sorry," Kuro says, running a hand through his hair, mussing the already ridiculous bedhead. He comes to a stop at the foot of Kenma's bed. "I just . . . I have to do well. I can't let my mom down again. I can't let the team down, let coach down. I have to get things right this time."

Kenma frowns, moving to stand. "You're not going to let anyone down," he says, shaking his head. "Nobody expects you to be perfect, Kuro."

"I know that. I _know_ ," Kuro says, grimacing. "But I have to try my best."

"You always try your best," Kenma says, taking his arm and shaking it gently. "Calm down."

Kuro inhales deeply, letting the air out slowly. Kenma gives him a look and he does it again, and again, until the tension in his form begins to ease. Kenma nods then, satisfied, and wraps his arms around Kuro's waist, hugging him firmly. Kuro hugs him back, burying his face in Kenma's hair. He can feel Kuro's warm breath against his scalp.

"Kenma."

Kuro says his name like a prayer, and Kenma's knees feel weak. He presses his face against Kuro's chest, listening to the rapid beat of his heart. He's not sure how long they stand there, holding each other, but eventually Kuro's heartbeat slows, and Kenma feels him relax. He pulls away then, looking up to study Kuro's face.

Kuro gives him a crooked smile. "You're really good at that," he says.

"At what?" Kenma asks, brows furrowed in slight confusion.

Kuro's smile widens into a grin. He reaches up to smooth Kenma's hair down, where it got mussed against Kuro's shirt. "Calming me down. I appreciate it."

Kenma swallows hard, turning his face away to hide behind his hair. He can't stand it when Kuro looks at him like that. With such tenderness. He feels a twinge in his chest.

Still, he reaches out to curl his fingers around the edge of Kuro's shirt, holding it gently. _I'll always be here to calm you down._ He wants to say it, but it gets stuck in his throat, and by the time he's gathered up the courage to open his mouth, Kuro's kissed him on the forehead and moved away toward the door.

"I have to head home. Okaasan's cooking dinner. I'll see you tomorrow?"

Kenma huffs, blowing hair out of his face. "Obviously."

Kuro grins. "Goodnight, Kenma."

 

 

 

 

Kuro aces his exams. The team goes to Nationals. Because Kuro is smart, he's capable, and his faith in his team and in Kenma goes a long way to boosting their confidence. He makes it seem like anything is possible, and Kenma can't say he doesn't get at least somewhat swept up in the hero worship along with the rest of the school. Kuro paints an impressive picture: the confident, suave volleyball captain that led his team to Nationals. The girls that aren't intimidated by him give him confession letters, and the guys that admire him crowd around to congratulate him.

Of course Kuro directs all attention away from himself. He talks about his team, about Kenma, about how well _they_ did. Kenma can't help but feel frustrated. He wants Kuro to know how amazing he is, how incredible. He wants Kuro to _believe_ that he is.

Because he still has nightmares. He's still worried that he's not enough for his mom, or even for Kenma. He still thinks he has to do better, not realizing that he's always done the best he can and that's all anyone can ever ask of him.

"I'm proud of you," Kenma murmurs, lying in bed one night with his phone cradled against his ear. Kuro stopped climbing into his window sometime around his first year of high school, saying that it wasn't manly to run away from his nightmares. Kenma told him that was stupid, that he doesn't mind holding Kuro until he falls asleep, but Kuro shook his head, insisting that he needed to get through it himself if he was ever going to overcome it.

Kenma doesn't think that's true, but he knows he can't force Kuro to come to him.

"I'm proud of you too," Kuro says. His voice is sleepy but Kenma can hear the smile in it. "Now I just gotta pass these entrance exams."

"You'll pass," Kenma says, fully confident that he will.

Kuro chuckles quietly. "I wish I had as much confidence in me as you seem to."

"You can't see yourself clearly," Kenma states matter-a-factly.

"Oh, and I guess you can?" Kuro asks, sounding amused.

Kenma frowns, feeling like he's not being taken seriously. Isn't Kuro the one who praised him on his ability to observe people well?

"You talk about wanting to look cool, but you don't have to look cool because you're already incredible," Kenma says, annoyance lacing his tone. "You're smart and kind and brave. Not fearless, but you said yourself superheroes don't have to be fearless. That's not what makes them super or heroic. You put others before yourself, you put others' happiness before your own, you're an idiot too because you worry yourself sick over things that you don't have to worry about."

Kuro's silent on the other end of the phone, and Kenma's self-consciousness begins to creep back into him. He closes his eyes tightly, his face growing warm. He's glad he doesn't have to look at Kuro right now, but the silence is gnawing at his insides, gripping his chest in a tight fist. He's contemplating just hanging up and burying himself in his blankets when Kuro speaks.

"Wow. I don't think I've ever heard you talk so much."

Kenma bites his lip, his stomach squirming.

"I appreciate it, though," he continues, his voice lowering. "All of it. You're really good to me, Kenma. I'm really grateful for you. Have I told you that before?"

Kenma's face burns. "You've implied it," he mumbles.

"I love you, Kenma."

Panic surges through him. With a gasp, he sits up, flinging the phone to the foot of his bed. His heart pounds loudly in his ears, as he struggles to breathe. Through the buzzing in his head, he vaguely hears Kuro say something else, his voice teeny and indistinct in the speaker of the phone. Pulling his knees up to his chest, Kenma stares at the phone, wrapping his arms around his shins to hold himself in a tight ball.

He's being stupid. He knows he is. It's not like he doesn't already know that Kuro loves him. There has never been a doubt in his mind that he does, as a friend.

But that's just it.

Kenma hasn't loved Kuro as just a friend in a long time. And hearing Kuro say those words out loud, knowing that he doesn't mean them the way Kenma wants him to . . . it hurts.

Kuro's still calling for him over the phone. He sounds panicked. Grimacing, Kenma slowly crawls down to the end of the bed to pick it up. He raises it to his ear, biting his lip.

"—if you don't want me to. I swear. Kenma? Kenma, please. Are you there?"

"I'm here," Kenma says quietly. "Sorry. I . . . dropped my phone."

"Oh," Kuro breathes a sigh of relief. "Is it okay?"

"Yeah," Kenma says quietly, side-eyeing his pillow. "I'm kinda tired though."

"Right, yeah, of course. Sorry. I'll let you sleep."

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah . . . yeah, goodnight, Kenma."

"Goodnight."

Kenma hangs up slowly. He could still hear the anxiety in Kuro's voice after he lied about his phone. Why was he so anxious? If he meant his words to be taken as one friend to another, why did he panic when Kenma didn't respond?

Deciding it's too much to think about tonight, Kenma pulls out his PSP to play until he falls asleep.

 

 

 

***

 

 

Kuro's graduation is a good and a bad day for Kenma. Good, because he's proud of Kuro, and he's happy to see him successful and moving forward toward his goals (as a chemistry major, of all things. Kenma knows nothing about chemistry, but Kuro always did get excited over science). The ceremony takes place at school, and Kenma sits with his class. But afterwards Kuro's mom throws a party, with all his relatives from her side of the family, as well as friends from school, including the volleyball team.

The house gets crowded quickly, and Kenma struggles to stay downstairs with Kuro and their friends. The noise hurts his ears; the proximity of all the people makes his skin crawl. Eventually he has to leave. Not wanting to distract Kuro, who seems to be having a good time, he retreats to Kuro's bedroom.

Lying down on the bed, he buries his face in one of Kuro's pillows, inhaling deeply. Kuro's scent lingers on the pillowcase, and Kenma feels his chest constrict. Through the door, he can hear voices and laughter, muffled yet happy. Guilt twists his stomach, but he can't bring himself to go back down. As much as he wants to be with Kuro, it's too much.

Kuro's already packed most of his things into boxes. The room is achingly bare. Soon everything will be gone, and Kuro along with it. His university is only an hour and a half away, and Kuro's already promised that he'll come back often during the weekends. There are always vacations and holidays as well. But life won't be the same. Kenma knows that. He won't be able to just walk down the street whenever to see him. They won't be spending every day together. For the first time since he was six, he'll be without his best friend.

He's struggling to keep tears at bay when the door opens, and Kuro peers around it.

"Hey. I thought I might find you here." He steps into the room, shutting the door behind him. Grinning faintly, he crosses over to sit on the bed beside Kenma, reaching out to pat his thigh lightly. "Party got too much for you, huh?"

Kenma nods, biting his lip.

"To be honest, it was getting a little much for me too. So many people trying to talk to me at once. And of course _all_ my relatives have something to say about university and how I should do things once I'm there. If I have to listen to one more lecture about how to eat well while saving money I'm going to scream."

Kenma smiles faintly, imagining that scenario.

Kuro looks around the room, his expression turning thoughtful. "Hey, you know what we haven't done in a while?" He stands, grabbing the edge of his blanket. He tugs on it gently. "Get up."

Confused, Kenma rolls off the bed, standing and watching silently as Kuro takes the blanket and walks over to his desk. He pulls out the chair, draping the blanket over it and the desk, picking up a box to set it on top of the blanket to hold it in place. He takes his sheet then and places it on top of the blanket so it falls down either side.

"We're not going to fit," Kenma says, though his heartbeat has already quickened.

"Sure we will," Kuro says confidently. "Come on." He crawls into the fort, lying down on his back. He's too tall for the small space, so his legs stick out underneath the chair.

Kenma snorts softly but crawls beneath the sheet as well. As he guessed, there isn't really any space for him to lie down, not unless he lies right on top of Kuro. He's about to point that out, but Kuro takes his arm and tugs him down onto his chest.

Kenma's neck and ears burns, but he adjusts, carefully sliding one leg between Kuro's while resting his head against Kuro's chest. He can hear Kuro's heartbeat, which is pounding faster than his relaxed pose suggests. He has his arm around Kenma's back, but Kenma puts one hand on the floor beside them, propping himself up to look down into Kuro's face questioningly.

Kuro gives him a crooked grin. "Well, this is cozy. I'm gonna go ahead and apologize in advance if get a boner."

Kenma feels the heat from his neck spread to his face. He smacks Kuro's arm lightly, while Kuro laughs softly. He buries his face in Kuro's chest then, wondering why his friend has to be so embarrassing all the time. Kuro's laugh fades to a chuckle, and he strokes his fingers gently through Kenma's hair.

"You haven't said anything, but I know you're upset that I'm leaving," Kuro says quietly. "I just want you to know that I'm still going to be here for you. If you ever need me for . . . anything, you can call me, and I'll come to you. It'll take me at least an hour and a half, but . . . I'll be here."

Kenma nods. He knows that. But he also knows that he doesn't want to be a burden on Kuro. He wants him to succeed at his university. To thrive. He won't be able to do that if he has to come home to Kenma every time he has a bad day. He's going to have to get used to doing things on his own. It'll be difficult, but Kenma's determined to make it. He wants Kuro to be proud of him. He wants Kuro to know he doesn't have to look out for him anymore.

It's Kenma's turn.

"I'll be fine," Kenma says softly. He lifts his head again to look down at Kuro. Reaching up with one hand, he strokes his fingers slowly through the crazy hair, carding through the soft strands. Kuro closes his eyes briefly, leaning into the touch. Kenma's heart crawls into his throat, and he swallows with difficulty.

"Just focus on your studies. You're going to do great," he adds.

"Kenma." Kuro reaches up to take his hand, pulling it away from his hair. He presses his lips to Kenma's fingertips, and Kenma's heart stutters out of rhythm. Opening his eyes, Kuro meets his gaze. Silence stretches between them, and Kenma feels like he can hear both their heartbeats racing wildly in unison.

The air feels heavy. They're both breathing shallowly, and Kuro bites his lip, anxiety written over his features. Kenma's chest feels tight. He finds himself leaning down, as Kuro tilts his head up toward him.

The first kiss is just a brush of lips, tentative and trembling. Kuro grips Kenma's hand tightly, and Kenma can feel the shiver that vibrates his chest. He kisses him again, deeper this time, hoping to reassure him.

_This is okay. You're okay._

Kuro's breath quickens, puffing against Kenma's face through his nose. Pulling back, Kenma frowns slightly, uncertain if he's done something wrong.

"Sorry," Kuro gasps. "Sorry, I just . . . I love you, Kenma. I love you so much."

Kenma purses his lips, moving to sit up. Careful of the desk, he shifts so he's straddling Kuro's thighs, sitting lightly on them. He grabs Kuro's arm then, pulling him up to sit as well. The top of his head makes the blanket tent, but it remains in place, covering them, shielding them from the outside world.

Kenma wraps his arms around Kuro's neck, holding him close. Kuro wraps his arms around Kenma's waist, clutching him tightly, as he buries his face in Kenma's neck. He's shuddering, panicking. Kenma holds him as steadily as he can, curling his fingers into his hair and the back of his shirt.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Kuro pants quietly.

"Shhh," Kenma murmurs. "It's okay. You're okay."

"I was so afraid to tell you. I didn't want to lose you. I didn't want to make things uncomfortable and end up pushing you away. After that time on the phone I thought . . ."

Kenma feels another pang of guilt, and he grips Kuro tighter. "No, it's fine. You're fine. I'm not going to leave you. I promised I wouldn't. I'm here."

He holds him close until he feels the tremors fade, and Kuro's heartbeat return to normal. Even so he continues to hold him, and Kuro doesn't try to pull away. They remain like this until Kuro's mom comes to find out what's taking Kuro so long to return. Then they pull away and leave the fort, Kenma holding Kuro's hand firmly in his, as they both make their way downstairs together.

 

 

Later that night, Kenma remembers he forgot to say something important earlier, and so he texts Kuro despite the late hour.

 _ >>i love you too_ (01:34)

 

 

 

***

 

 

Unfortunately things don't start out exactly as planned. Both Kuro and Kenma's schedules fill up quickly once they start their new respective school years, and they're unable to find time to see each other until summer break. By this time Kenma's grown desperate. Although he's made friends on the volleyball team, none of them are as dear to him as Kuro. None of them know him as well as Kuro does. He works hard at cram school and does his best during practice, but when he gets home it feels too still, too quiet.

Kenma's always preferred the quiet and being alone, but now he's realizing how different things are when Kuro's not a couple doors away. They text and talk on the phone often, but it's not the same. He needs to _see_ Kuro. He needs to touch him, feel him touching back.

When Kuro gets home with suitcases for his stay, Kenma completely disregards them and leaps at him. Kuro stumbles back, dropping his things in the driveway in order to catch Kenma in his arms with a laugh. He spins them around, hugging Kenma tightly, as the smaller boy clings to him like a koala.

"I take it you missed me," Kuro says, grinning.

Kenma buries his face in Kuro's neck, inhaling his scent.

"At least let me get inside my house," Kuro says. "You can attack me as much as you want then, I promise."

Kenma releases him reluctantly, sliding down to stand on his own two feet again. Kuro tugs on the ends of his hair affectionately before bending to pick up his suitcases once more. Kenma leads the way into his house, biting his lip to stifle a grin. Kuro steps over the threshold and slips out of his shoes, while Kenma quietly vibrates beside him, waiting for him to notice his gift.

Kuro lifts his gaze then, and his eyes widen. The front living room of his house has been transformed into a giant blanket fort. Sheets lie draped over chairs and the couch, held together by safety pins. The sheet in the center is held up by a string and hook hanging from the ceiling, creating a pyramid shape. Beneath the tent, the floor is covered with pillows and fluffy blankets.

"You made this for me?" Kuro asks with a grin, glancing over at Kenma.

"For us," Kenma says softly with a nod.

Kuro's mother steps out of the kitchen, walking over to greet her son. "Kenma-kun came over a few hours ago and just started pulling all the sheets out of the linen closet," she says with a laugh. Hugging Kuro tightly, she kisses his cheek before pulling back. "When he told me he was making a gift for you, I had to help him."

Kuro laughs, kissing his mother's cheek in return. "You're the best," he says happily, reaching to grab Kenma around the shoulders and pull him into his side. "You both are."

"Go on into the fort, Kenma has some games set up for you," Kuro's mother says, patting his backside. "Dinner will be ready soon. I'm making your favorite."

"I love you so much," Kuro says seriously.

Kuro's mother laughs, winking as she steps toward the kitchen. "As well you should!"

Kenma takes Kuro's hand, tugging on it and leading him into the fort. He lets go in order to crawl over to the best spot in front of the TV, picking up a controller and holding it out to Kuro. Kuro grins, moving to sit close beside him.

"You really worked hard on all this, huh?" Kuro asks, looking around.

Kenma nods. "Welcome home," he murmurs.

Kuro leans over to kiss his cheek. "Thanks," he says, and his eyes are shining.

Kenma starts the game, Super Smash Bros, a game both he and Kuro enjoy. As they play, however, Kenma finds himself continuously glancing over to study Kuro's face. He seems thinner than before, still lean and muscular, but the lines of his face are more pronounced. He looks tired, with dark circles beneath his eyes and some pallor beneath his skin that's somewhat worrisome. Kenma's about to ask if everything's okay over at his university, when Kuro's mother ducks beneath the fort with a tray of grilled salted mackerel pike with rice and some apple pie. The plates are piled high, and the glasses of water sitting next to the plates are large.

"What the heck, Okaasan?" Kuro asks with a laugh. "Are you trying to fatten me up to eat me later?"

"Don't think I haven't noticed that you've lost weight," Kuro's mother says. "Both of you boys are much too thin. Kenma-kun, doesn't your mother feed you over there?"

"Yes," Kenma says, because it's true. At least, when his mother is home she feeds him. Most of the time he has to fend for himself, and his laziness makes for hungry nights sometimes when he doesn't have the energy to cook anything. He doesn't say this, however, not wanting to worry Kuroo-san when she should be devoting her attention on her own son.

"I'm eating!" Kuro protests, though he eyes the food hungrily.

"Microwavable ramen, I'm sure," Kuro's mother says, rolling her eyes. "I expect all this to be gone when I come back." She gestures to the food.

"Yes, Okaasan," Kuro says obediently.

Kenma nods. Kuro's mother looks satisfied and leaves the fort. The two set aside their controllers to pick up the chopsticks, each calling "thanks for the food!" loud enough for Kuro's mother to hear. They dig in then, and Kenma notices how Kuro seems to be inhaling the food. Surreptitiously, he sneaks some of his own fish onto Kuro's plate, but the second time he does, Kuro catches him.

"Whoa, hey, what are you doing?" he asks, grabbing Kenma's wrist.

Kenma blinks at him. "You're hungry," he states, thinking this was obvious.

"Aren't you?" Kuro asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Not as much as you, apparently," Kenma says pointedly.

Kuro sighs, releasing his wrist. "Kenma, I'm fine. You don't need to take care of me. I just didn't get anything to eat before I left."

Kenma purses his lips, reaching up to poke at the bruise beneath Kuro's eye closest to him. "Are you sleeping as much as you're eating?"

Kuro brushes Kenma's hand away. "Stop that. You're acting like my mom. You don't need to worry, okay? I'm just a little stressed. But that's understandable, right? It's my first year, after all. Once I get used to the pace, I'll be fine."

Kenma frowns faintly, not thinking it'll be that simple if Kuro gets into bad habits from the start. Before he can say anything else, though, Kuro picks up a fork and scoops up a bite of pie, setting it in Kenma's mouth, as he opens it to speak. Kenma chews, his frown darkening, but Kuro just grins and takes a forkful of his own pie to eat.

"Stop giving me that look and enjoy your pie," Kuro says, tapping the end of his fork against Kenma's nose. "Then watch me kick your ass in Super Smash Bros."

Kenma swallows the bite, shaking his head. "You weren't winning."

"I'm pretty sure I was."

"My score is higher than yours."

"Yeah, well, I'm just warming up. You'll see. You'll be begging for mercy soon."

Kenma has to fight a smile, as he shakes his head. They finish their food and Kuro's mother comes to clear the tray away, as they return to the game. They play late into the evening, and when midnight comes and they both start to yawn, Kuro's mom offers to let Kenma stay the night. He accepts gratefully, and the two decide to sleep in the fort, instead of moving to Kuro's room. They still get changed for bed, however, Kenma wearing a pair of old pajama pants and a shirt, both Kuro's.

Kuro grins when he sees Kenma step out of the bathroom from brushing his teeth, somewhat swamped in Kuro's clothes.

"Don't laugh," Kenma says with a small frown, shrugging to lift the collar that keeps slipping down his shoulder.

"You look adorable," Kuro says, his eyes full of affection.

Kenma hides his blush behind his hair, dropping down onto the pillows and blankets beside Kuro. _His_ pajamas fit him perfectly, though there seems to be a little more room than there should be, evidence of his weight loss. Before Kenma can mention this, however, Kuro flops over on top of him. Kenma yelps involuntarily at the sudden weight, shoving his hands on Kuro's shoulders to try and get him off. Kuro just laughs and tickles Kenma's face with his hair.

"St-stop!" Kenma wheezes, as he struggles to not giggle.

Kuro lifts his head. Bracing his hands on either side of Kenma, he pushes himself up to look down at him with a faint grin. Slowly, he brushes his nose against Kenma's, before pressing his forehead against his.

"I've missed you so much," he says softly.

"I've missed you too," Kenma murmurs, fighting a blush.

Kuro leans back, glancing over his shoulder at the space beneath the sheets where they can see part of the hallway. Seeing the space empty, Kuro turns back to Kenma with a gentle smile before bending down to kiss him softly. Kenma tilts his head up into the kiss, moving one hand from Kuro's shoulder to place it in his hair, stroking the soft strands slowly. It's reminiscent of their first kiss, though Kenma hopes Kuro doesn't panic this time.

It doesn't seem like it, though. Despite this being only their second kiss, Kuro's heartbeat, while quick, is steady against Kenma's chest. Kenma thought about that first kiss often in the months Kuro was gone. He remembers the way Kuro said he loved him, how he texted Kuro back saying the same. They haven't really talked about it since then, but as they continue to kiss now, lips sliding together in a careful rhythm, he's not sure that they _need_ to talk about it.

There seems to be an understanding passing between them. The knowledge that this is their next step. It's something they both want; that's fairly obvious.

Kenma moves his other hand to Kuro's side, slowly pushing his pajama shirt up in order to feel the warm, smooth skin of his lower back. It twitches beneath his touch, and Kuro pulls away from the kiss, his cheeks pink, eyes somewhat glassy.

"W-wait," he says, reaching behind him to take Kenma's wrist. He moves Kenma's hand from his back to hold it against his chest, where Kenma can feel his heart pounding faster. "I-I don't want to rush into this. I'm not . . . I have a lot going on right now, and I'm not sure I can be that person for you until I get some of my shit together. I don't want to disappoint you. So . . . is it okay if we take things slow?"

Kenma huffs, feeling like they've been taking it slow ever since they met. But he nods, because it's Kuro, and his comfort is more important than his own sex drive. Besides, it's not like he gets hot and needy very often. It won't be very troublesome to wait until Kuro's ready.

Moving his hand from Kuro's hair, he runs his fingertips over Kuro's face, tracing his features tenderly. Kuro leans into his touch, closing his eyes.

"I love you," he says softly.

Kenma leans up to kiss him briefly, a caste peck against his lips. "I love you too," he whispers.

Kuro rolls to the side, wrapping his arm around Kenma and pulling him close to his chest. Kenma wiggles into a more comfortable position and sighs, relaxing into the pillows beneath them, as he closes his eyes and drifts to sleep in the comfort and security of Kuro's arms.

 

 

 

Summer passes too quickly. Kuro hangs out with some of his own friends from the volleyball club while Kenma's in practice, but afterwards the two of them walk through the city together. They catch a train to the beach where they get popsicles and walk along the boardwalk. They swim sometimes, or just hang out under an umbrella, Kuro watching while Kenma plays his DS or PSP. They go see scary movies that have Kuro hiding his face in Kenma's shoulder, while Kenma throws popcorn into his hair. They go to the local pool, where Kuro ends up teaching some little kids how to swim, while Kenma watches fondly from his spot on their towels.

They of course play games back at Kuro's house, or Kenma's. When Kuro's family comes to visit for a cookout, they help his little cousins catch fireflies. His aunts and uncles bombard Kuro with questions about his future: what is he studying? what career is he looking at? how is he going to make money after university? when is he going to get a girlfriend?

This last question always causes Kenma's chest to seize up tight, but Kuro always laughs it off and says he's too busy for a girlfriend right now. Kenma doesn't miss the way his mother purses her lips at this response. Sometimes he wonders if she knows.

As the sky grows dark, they lie out on the grass and look at the stars, like they used to when they were younger. Kuro asks Kenma to remind him of the constellations, even though it's clear minutes later that Kuro remembers perfectly.

"Sometimes I look out my window at uni," Kuro admits. "I look up at the sky, and I think of you. I remember your voice telling me about the stars, and I try to find the ones you told me about. It's really calming when I'm stressed out about something."

Kenma reaches for his hand, giving it a small squeeze. He's glad that even when they're apart he's still able to comfort Kuro in some way. It's not the same as being there, and Kenma's chest aches with longing to be by Kuro's side when he has those nights, but it's a small consolation.

When it comes time for them to part at the end of summer, Kenma clutches Kuro tightly in the privacy of his room before they have to leave for the train station. Kuro holds him just as firmly, his fingers curling into the back of Kenma's shirt.

"It'll be fine; you'll be fine," Kenma says, though his voice trembles.

Kuro pulls back, resting his forehead against Kenma's with a soft sigh. "You'll be okay too," he says, his lips shifting into a crooked smile.

Kenma's heart rate speeds up at the sight. He closes his eyes. "I know," he says.

Kuro kisses the side of his face. "If you ever need me, just call me. And if I can't make it down for a weekend soon, I promise I'll be here for your birthday."

Kenma leans back, flicking Kuro's nose gently. "Don't worry about me. Focus on yourself. Eat and sleep. Got it?"

Kuro rubs his nose, grinning faintly. "Got it."

Kenma rides with them to the train station. They both sit in the back, and as Kuro chats with his mom, reassuring her that he's going to eat well and work hard, etc., he reaches across the seat between them to subtly hook his pinky around Kenma's. Kenma stares out the window and fights a smile, holding onto Kuro's pinky as tight as he can.

The station is crowded with university students and their families. Kenma stifles his panic as much as he can, determined to see Kuro all the way to the train. He can tell Kuro's worried about him; the taller young man keeps glancing down at him, hand twitching at his side. Kenma wishes he could take that hand, to squeeze it reassuringly, but he keeps his hands in his pockets, clenched into fists.

"Call me when you get there so I know you're safe," Kuro's mom says, giving her son a tight hug once they reach the right platform.

"Yeah, yeah," Kuro says, grinning faintly. "You don't have to worry. When am I ever not safe?" He gives Kenma a wink, and Kenma rolls his eyes, fighting a smile.

He turns from his mom then, and Kenma can feel the awkwardness start to descend. He's not sure if he wants to hug Kuro or not, but he can't just stand there and do _nothing_. He fidgets, and Kuro's mom gives them a small smile.

"I'll wait in the car," she says, turning to leave.

Kenma watches her go, convinced more than ever that she at least suspects.

"Hey," Kuro says quietly, and Kenma turns back to look up at him. Kuro bites his lip, chewing on it as he lifts his hand to flick a strand of Kenma's hair away from his face. "Things are probably going to get busy again, and I don't know how much time I'll have to visit but I promise I'll be here for your birthday, okay?"

Kenma nods, knowing he should tell Kuro not to worry about his birthday, but the truth is all he wants for that day is for Kuro to be with him. It might be selfish, but if it's his birthday isn't he allowed to be a little selfish?

Kuro leans down to whisper into his ear. "I'd kiss you but . . . you know."

Kenma's face burns. He nods, turning his gaze toward the people around them. Sighing, Kuro takes a step back.

"Take care of yourself, okay? Call me if you need me."

"You too," Kenma murmurs, hoping Kuro will take him up on that and call him if things get too overwhelming.

Kuro gives his arm a squeeze, before turning and heading onto the train. Kenma watches him until the train doors close and the train pulls away from the platform. Sighing, he turns then to head back out into the parking lot. As he gets into the car, his phone buzzes in his pocket.

 **Kuro**  
_imagine me kissing you so hard right now_ (13:34)

Kenma flushes, glancing at Kuro's mom out of the corner of his eye, but she's singing along to the radio, tapping her fingers on the wheel. He turns back to his phone, finger jabbing quickly.

 _ >>your mom is RIGHT HERE_ (13:34)

 _ **Kuro**  
_dont get a boner then ;)_ _ (13:35)

>> _i wont cuz im not imagining it_ (13:35)

 **Kuro** _ _  
_liar_ __ (13:35)

Kenma bites his lip, turning off his screen and looking out the window. Predictably his thoughts do turn to the memories of all the times he and Kuro got to kiss during the summer. They were mostly quick ones, stolen in secret while hanging out with friends or when they were alone in a public place. But sometimes, in the privacy of his or Kuro's room, they allowed the touch to grow deeper, more intimate. Kuro always pulled away before things could get too heated, but Kenma did his best not to complain.

He wants Kuro to be comfortable. He remembers all too well his panic attack after their first kiss. He doesn't want that to happen again. He wants Kuro to feel safe, to know everything's okay. He's not sure if there's anything specific he can do or say to convince Kuro of that, but he's determined to try. He's willing to take things slow, to hold Kuro's hand if he needs to. After all the time spent with Kuro being there to reassure Kenma, Kenma wants to return the favor.

It's the least he can do, really.

__

 

 

 

***

 

 

Third year continues to be stressful, and Kuro's warning proves true when he has to cancel weekend plans over and over because of a new project. Apparently it's a group one, but his fellow team members aren't pulling their weight. He seems frustrated, but of course Kuro is going to continue doing most of the work, because that's the type of person he is. He can't let others flounder. He has to help; he has to be supportive even if he doesn't like them.

Kenma wishes he could go up there to chuck a few textbooks at Kuro's teammates heads, but with cram school and volleyball he finds he doesn't have much time himself. So they both survive their best on phone calls and texts, often cut short, often with long intervals in-between messages. It's difficult being apart, but Kenma looks forward to his birthday, holding fast to the promise that Kuro will be there.

"Kenma, what do you want to do for your birthday?" his mother asks one day at breakfast.

Kenma shrugs. He doesn't really care what he does. He's never been a party person. All he wants is Kuro, but he's not sure if he should say that.

"Do you want to invite your volleyball friends over, maybe?" his mother prompts.

He knows she's hoping he'll say yes, that he'll finally give her proof that he isn't the lonely little kid from his childhood anymore, but he honestly doesn't want to have his teammates over. He just wants it to be him and Kuro.

"Kuro's coming," he says finally.

"Just Kuro?" his mother asks curiously.

Kenma nods firmly.

"Well . . . can I at least get a cake?"

"Apple pie," Kenma corrects.

His mother laughs. "Of course. Apple pie and Kuro. I should've known." She reaches over and pinches Kenma's cheek gently. "You two really are like peas in a pod, huh?"

 _We're closer than that,_ Kenma thinks, but he doesn't correct her.

The day comes, and Kenma waits on his front step for Kuro's arrival. He has his DS fully charged and is playing Pokémon, but he keeps glancing up at every car that passes by, every sound of footsteps. He's going to give himself an anxiety attack at this rate.

"Kenma, come inside! I'll let you know when he gets here," his mother calls.

Kenma hunches forward, shaking his head. He wants to be the first to see Kuro coming up his driveway. To be the first to hear his voice. His phone buzzes in his pocket, and he takes it out.

 **Kuro**  
_running a bit late. technical problem on train. ill be there as soon as i can!_ (14:12)

Kenma's heart sinks into his stomach. He bites his lip, not sure how to respond. He's upset, but he's not upset at Kuro. It's not his fault, and if he expresses his disappointment he knows Kuro will think it is.

He jumps as his phone starts ringing. He answers it without a word and immediately Kuro starts apologizing.

"Kenma, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Don't wait up for me, okay? If you have plans just go ahead and do those, and I'll catch up with you later."

Kenma doesn't have the heart to tell him that he was his only plan for the day. "Okay," he says instead. "How long do you think you'll be?"

"Shit, I don't know. Another couple hours maybe? They're working on fixing it right now, but I don't know how long it'll take."

"Okay," Kenma says, his chest clenching.

"I'm so sorry, Kenma. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"It's okay," Kenma says softly. "It's not your fault."

"I want to be there with you," Kuro says, his volume lowering as well. Kenma shivers slightly at the sound of his voice low in his ear. "I have a present for you."

Kenma's stomach flutters, and he ducks his head to hide his face behind his hair. His fingers clutch his phone and DS tightly. "O-oh. Um. Thanks . . ."

Kuro laughs quietly. "You're so cute. Fuck, I wish I was there instead of here right now. These people are driving me crazy. Everyone's complaining . . . there's like five babies crying . . ."

"I'm here," Kenma says, staring down at his DS. "I'll stay on the phone."

"No, no, you should go enjoy your birthday."

"I am enjoying it."

"Kenma . . ."

Kenma huffs. "Kuro."

"You don't want to be stuck on the phone with me all day."

"Yes, I do."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do."

" _Kenma._ "

" _Kuro._ "

There's a beat of silence before they both start laughing.

"See? I'm already making you feel better," Kenma says. "You should stay on the phone. It's better for your health."

"Are you saying you're good for my health?" Kuro asks, a grin still in his voice.

Kenma nods. "Yes."

"That's probably true," Kuro admits.

"You're good for my health too," Kenma says seriously after a moment.

"I doubt that," Kuro says, but his laugh this time rings harsher.

Kenma frowns. "You're lucky I'm not there or I'd hit you."

"I'd be lucky if you were here even with you hitting me."

Kenma drops his head into his lap, groaning. Why does Kuro have to be so embarrassing? He can feel his face burning, but Kuro's laughing again, the nice laugh, and Kenma guesses he doesn't mind so much. Not if it makes Kuro happy. With his face hidden he doesn't fight a smile, but lets it grow naturally, until his cheeks hurt.

They talk for the next two hours, even after the train gets fixed and starts moving again. They steer clear of stressful topics such as cram school and Kuro's project, and instead Kenma describes all his new Pokémon, and Kuro talks about the new Korean drama he's been watching on his breaks. Kenma thinks they sound cheesy, but then again Kuro _is_ cheesy, so he figures it works.

Eventually, Kenma's mom comes outside to get him to come in for dinner. Kenma's reluctant, but Kuro says he's close, so he ends the call and heads inside.

"Is Tetsurou going to be able to make it?" she asks, as he sits down at the table.

Kenma nods. "He'll be here soon."

His mom smiles. "I'm glad. I'll leave some food for him on the stove."

By the time Kenma's done eating, his phone buzzes again. He doesn't even look at it before he's jumping up and running for the door. He's pretty sure he's never run this fast in his life. He flings open the door and there he is.

Kuro.

He looks exhausted, but when he sees Kenma his eyes light up and his shoulders straighten. Kenma's chest swells, his stomach flutters, and he grabs Kuro around the waist in a tight hug, not caring that his mom is still in the kitchen and could walk out at any moment. He squeezes Kuro tight, as tight as he can, and Kuro wraps his arms around him in return.

"Hey, happy birthday," Kuro murmurs into his hair.

Kenma inhales, taking in his scent, absorbing his warmth, the solidity of him.

_He's here. He's here. He's really here._

"Tetsurou-kun! It's good to see you again," Kenma's mother steps out of the kitchen, approaching them with a smile.

Kenma releases Kuro reluctantly, allowing his mom to give Kuro a brief hug. "Come into the kitchen, I have food for you."

"Ah, thank you," Kuro says with a small grin.

Kenma follows them, taking a seat across from Kuro so he can look at him. While his mother asks him questions about university and his trip, Kenma studies Kuro, noting small differences. For one thing, he's gotten piercings. A stud in one ear along with a bar through the top. He has an undercut as well, hair cut short above his neck. He still has that ridiculous bed-head, though, and Kenma's fingers itch to run through it.

Kuro seems to notice him staring, and he glances over with a quick smile. Kenma's heartbeat quickens, and he looks away, embarrassed. He feels Kuro's foot knock against his gently under the table, and he fights a smile.

After dinner they eat dessert (apple pie) and Kenma's mom gives him his birthday present: a new game for his console. It's one he's wanted, so he thanks her happily, but when she asks if he wants to take it into the living room to play it, he finds himself hesitating.

"Maybe later," he says, biting his lip.

Kuro quirks an eyebrow questioningly, but Kenma just shakes his head. He doesn’t miss the glance his mother gives them both, or the way that she watches them as Kenma grabs Kuro's wrist and pulls him upstairs.

"Eighteen. Wow. My little Kenma is growing up," Kuro says, wiping away an imaginary tear.

"Shut up," Kenma mutters, sitting down on the edge of his bed. He wiggles his toes against the floor, suddenly nervous. He twists his fingers together, looking up at Kuro and stuck again by how tired he looks.

"You look like shit," he says.

"Tactless as always," Kuro says with a sigh, moving to sit beside him. "This project is taking a lot out of me. I promise I'll catch up on all my sleep when it's done."

"Your teammates are jerks," Kenma says. "You should just say 'fuck you guys' and leave them to figure things out themselves."

Kuro sighs. "You know I can't. The grade reflects on all parts of the project. If they do shit work on their ends then that affects my grade too. It's in my best interest, in all our best interests, to make sure everything's done right."

"At the cost of your health though?" Kenma asks with a frown. "You're working yourself too hard."

"I'm fine, Kenma," Kuro says, his voice tired.

"No, you're not. You're not taking care of yourself."

"Kenma, stop."

Kenma's frown deepens, but closes his mouth, pursing his lips. Kuro reaches out to take his hand, dragging his thumb across the back of it.

"I don't want to argue with you," he says quietly. "It's your birthday. Can I give you your gift?"

Kenma nods, worry still twisting his stomach but not wanting to argue either. He watches as Kuro reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small box. Kuro gives him a nervous grin, opening it to reveal a ring on a chain. Kenma's heart leaps into his throat, and he inhales sharply.

"I thought we were taking things slow," he says then, glancing up at Kuro's face a little accusatory.

Kuro looks away, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "It's not like that," he says, rubbing the back of his neck. "I just . . . I wanted to get you something nice. Something personal that nobody else would give you. Something special."

Kenma takes the ring, lifting it up to look at it closer. Inside the band is a date. He tilts his head, trying to figure out why that date looks so familiar.

"It's, uh, it's the date of our first kiss," Kuro says sheepishly, glancing over at him. "Also the day you first told me you loved me."

"You're so lame," Kenma says, but his face is burning. He slips the chain over his head, tucking the ring beneath his shirt. He reaches over then, grabbing the front of Kuro's shirt and pulling him closer in order to kiss him.

Kuro kisses him back immediately, hand moving up to card gently through Kenma's hair. Kenma isn't in the mood for gentle, however. He's missed Kuro. And with this gift . . . he doesn't have the words to tell Kuro how much this gift means to him. So he grabs Kuro's shoulders to steady himself, twisting around to sit in Kuro's lap. Kuro's hands take his waist automatically, and Kenma can feel rather than hear the hitch in his breath.

He deepens the kiss, lips sliding between Kuro's in order to suck on his lower lip. The skin is rough from years of biting, but Kenma doesn't care. He softens it with his tongue, and Kuro moans softly beneath him.

_I love you. I love you._

Kenma repeats these words over and over in his mind, hoping that Kuro's somehow able to receive them through the kiss, through the touch of his fingers, as they tangle themselves in the soft strands of Kuro's hair. He lets the fingers of one hand move down to Kuro's ear, gently tracing over the new piercings.

Kuro pulls away from him, a flush still coloring his cheeks. He reaches up to touch Kenma's hand on his ear, his smile turning somewhat self-conscious. "Do you like them?"

Kenma nods. "They're hot," he says, before tilting his head to run his tongue along them, the metallic taste sharp in his mouth.

A shudder runs through Kuro, and his grip on Kenma's waist and hand tightens. "K-Kenma?"

Kenma takes the lobe of Kuro's ear into his mouth, rolling his tongue around the piercing there, as he sucks lightly. Kuro twitches beneath him, and Kenma can feel his chest moving faster, as his breath quickens. Worried that he might be having another panic attack, Kenma pulls away, looking into Kuro's face.

"Sorry," Kuro says, inhaling sharply. "I just . . . I can't." He pushes Kenma off him gently, setting him to the side as he stands quickly.

Kenma frowns. "Kuro . . ."

"I'm sorry, Kenma." Kuro runs his hand through his hair, turning to look down at him. Apology and shame darken his features, and Kenma's chest tightens.

_Why that expression?_

"It's okay if you don't want to," Kenma says softly.

"No, it's not that. I just . . . I _do_ want to. Shit, I think about you—about us—all the time."

Kenma tilts his head, watching Kuro fidget and wondering what he's not telling him. He remembers what Kuro said before, about disappointing him, and he frowns.

"Then what's wrong?"

"I can't . . . something like that . . . it's big, right? It's important. It's like, ugh." He runs his hand through his hair again, rubbing the back of his neck. "With sex, the way I see it at least, you give yourself fully to the other person. Your body, mind, and soul. It's something really special, you know?"

"And you don't want to give that to me?" Kenma asks, his frown darkening. His stomach twists in apprehension, until he sees the look of horror on Kuro's face.

"No! Fuck." Kuro grimaces, sitting back down and taking Kenma's hand. He squeezes it tightly. "It's not that I don't want to," he says. "You just deserve more than what I can give right now. I don't . . . I don't trust myself not to disappoint you or let you down in some way. I want . . . I _have_ to be better."

Kenma shakes his head slowly. "No, you don't. I love you already. Just the way you are."

Kuro gives him a half-hearted smile. "Just give me some time, okay? I'll be better, and then we'll have everything we want together and more. I promise."

Kenma studies him and then nods, but the frustration is still coiled in his chest. Why can Kuro never see himself the way Kenma sees him? He'd argue the point more, but he can see the exhaustion in Kuro's eyes, the way his shoulders are slumping again. So instead, he sits up on his knees and wraps his arms around Kuro's shoulders, holding his head to his chest. He rests his chin on top of Kuro's hair and closes his eyes.

"You worry too much," he murmurs.

"I just want the best for you," Kuro replies quietly.

_Always protecting me. Can't you see I want to take care of you too?_

"I know," Kenma says, kissing the top of his head. _But you're already what's best for me._

He pulls Kuro down beside him on the bed, wrapping his arm around his waist, his leg on top of Kuro's, surrounding him as best he can with his smaller body. Kuro, in turn, wraps himself around Kenma as well, until they're like two cats curled into a single ball in the center of the bed.

"Sorry if I ruined your birthday," Kuro murmurs.

"You didn't," Kenma assures him. "All I wanted was you here. And you're here."

"I don't know what I did to deserve you," Kuro says, tightening his hold on Kenma.

 _I could say the same,_ Kenma thinks, but instead of saying so, he simply shakes his head and tilts his head to kiss the underside of Kuro's chin. "You didn't have to do anything," he says.

They fall asleep like that, Kuro first, as Kenma stays awake to make sure that he _does_ sleep. As he runs his fingers through Kuro's hair and listens to his breathing grow deeper and more relaxed, feels the tension in Kuro's body ease, he wracks his brain to try and think of what he could give Kuro to show him how much Kenma loves and appreciates him for who he is. To convince him that he doesn't need to be perfect. He doesn't need to be some superhero.

He just needs to be Kuro. That's all Kenma wants.

 

 

 

 

***

 

 

The call comes just before midnight.

It's mid-December, and Kenma's awake, burrowed beneath his blankets and playing his PSP even though he has early practice the next morning. When his phone buzzes he at first doesn't think anything of it. But when it continues to buzz and buzz and buzz, he frowns, pausing his game and picking it up from his bedside table. When he sees Kuro's name on the screen, he answers quickly.

"Kuro?"

"Hey."

There's a long beat of silence. Kenma's heart pounds faster. Something's wrong. He feels it like a cold slime crawling up his spine. He sits up slowly, clutching the phone to his ear.

"What's wrong?"

There's another pause, before Kuro sighs. "My laptop crashed. Everything is . . . gone."

Kenma's gut clenches. "Did you backup anything?"

"Yeah, like . . . two weeks ago. I put everything I had into a USB and gave it to my partner so he could work off it. Everything I've done since then though . . ."

"Are you okay?"

Silence greets this question, and Kenma's heart beats faster. "Kuro?"

"Sorry," Kuro says after a moment. "I shouldn't be bothering you this late. This is my problem. I should've gotten another USB and been backing up my files as I went. I'm an idiot. Sorry. I should let you sleep."

"I wasn't sleeping," Kenma says softly, worry growing sharp in his chest. "Where are you?"

"I'm in my dorm, don't worry," Kuro says. "I think I'll just . . . I don't know . . ." His voice fades out.

"Don't go anywhere, okay?" Kenma says, already scrambling out of bed to get dressed. He knows this isn't like when they were kids. Kuro can't climb in through his window to curl up on Kenma's bed. They can't hide beneath Kuro's desk in a fort made of blankets. But despite these facts, Kenma's not going to let Kuro be alone.

"Is your roommate there?" Kenma asks, opening his laptop to check the train schedule. There has to be late-night trains going to Kuro's university, right? People travel by night all the time.

Kuro sighs. "No. He's out . . . I'm not sure what he's doing. Partying probably." He laughs dully. "Can you believe that I've been here almost a year now, and I haven't been to a single party?"

"You could if you wanted to," Kenma says pointedly.

"No . . . I don't really know anyone here anyway."

"You know your roommate."

"I guess . . ." His voice grows quiet again.

Kenma finds a train that runs late but there are no more busses. He'll have to ask his mom for a ride. He grimaces but heads into the hall anyway. "Kuro, I have to hang up for a few minutes, but I'll call you right back, okay?"

"Kenma, it's really not a big deal. I'm fine."

"No, you're not. Just wait for me to call back, okay?"

Kenma doesn't wait for him to reply before he hangs up and opens the door to his mother's room. He steps over to her bed hesitantly, reaching out to touch her shoulder. Instantly she's awake, blinking up at him blearily.

"Kenma? Honey, what's wrong?"

"It's Kuro," Kenma says softly. "He needs me. Can you take me to the train?"

" _Now_?" His mother looks at the clock. "Kenma, it's almost midnight."

"He _needs_ me."

He bites his lip, as his mother studies him closely.

"He's not just your friend, is he?" she asks softly.

Kenma shakes his head, his pulse drumming in his head, his throat closed tight. For one terrible moment he's afraid she'll tell him no. That she'll be angry with him for falling in love with another boy. But in the end she says nothing, simply pushes back her comforter. Kenma steps back to give her room to stand, hope rising in his chest, as she grabs her robe to put it on.

"Riding the train at night can be dangerous," she told him, as they step into the hallway together. "I know you like to hide inside yourself, but please be aware of your surroundings."

Kenma nods, just relieved that she's willing to take him.

Inside the car she doesn't speak, and Kenma feels anxiety coil around his ribcage, sinking its teeth into his heart. "You're not mad?" he asks, staring down at his hands.

"You always looked at him with stars in your eyes," his mother says, giving him a small smile. "From the moment I saw you grab his hand I knew he was special to you. To be honest, I've always been grateful for him. He helped you come out of your shell. He brought this light into your face I'd never seen before."

Kenma blushes, fingers twitching his lap for a game to play to distract him from his embarrassment. He reaches up to fiddle with the ring that sits against his chest, hidden beneath his shirt.

"He's an incredible young man," she says then, almost thoughtfully. "I'd be proud to call him my son."

" _Okaasan,_ " Kenma groans, burying his face in his hands. He can't be thinking about this right now. Ignoring her quiet laugh, he pulls out his phone and sees Kuro's left him a couple messages.

 **Kuro**  
_are you doing what i think youre doing?_ (23:46)  
_shit kenma you dont have to do this_ (23:46)  
_kenma dont inconvenience yourself for me im not worth it_ (23:47)

Kenma purses his lips, as he replies.

 _> >shut up _(23:50)

 **Kuro**  
_kenma im serious. i know how much you hate riding the train. and all by yourself? at this time? i'm not worth it kenma im really not. stay home. go to sleep. ill be fine_ (23:51)

 _> >the very fact that you're saying you're not worth it tells me that i need to be there _(23:51)

 **Kuro**  
_i dont deserve it. i dont deserve you. ive failed again, kenma. i let my teammates down. i let my professor down. this needs to be turned in in two days, kenma. two. days. i fucked up. were gonna fail the assignment and its all my fault_ (23:54)

Kenma doesn't dignify this with a response. Frustration blooms in the place of anxiety, slashing through the snake around his chest. He tightens his grip on his phone, determination surging through him. He's going to stop this if it's the last thing he can do. He's going to show Kuro that he doesn't need to be a superhero to deserve love and support and everything Kenma wants to give him.

His mom drops him off in front of the station, tells him again to be careful, and watches as he hurries up to the ticket booth. The platform is quiet, only a few people waiting. Apparently it's the last train, and it pulls up to the station just as Kenma's taking his ticket from the machine. He hurries through the doors before they can close and collapses into a seat near the back of the car.

Thankfully it's mostly empty; there's only a handful of people riding with him, and they're absorbed in their own business, on their phones or reading a book. Kenma clutches his phone, glad it was on its charger before he answered Kuro's call. He forgot to grab it when he left his room. Kuro always has an extra one for him, though.

The ride is only an hour and a half long, but it feels longer. Time drags on, and Kenma's fingers twitch in his lap. He didn't grab a game in his haste to leave. He didn't grab anything. He feels exposed with nothing to hide his face in, and that anxiety starts to slither in again. Turning his thoughts to Kuro, he reminds himself why he's doing this.

When the train reaches its destination, Kenma walks the rest of the way to the university, glad that it's only a fifteen minute walk. Streetlights illuminate the street, making it easy to see. The trees are bare, and there's a chill in the air that promises snowfall. Kenma remembered his hoodie, but it's not enough to keep out the cold, so he hurries as fast as he can to the first year dorms and up to the room number Kuro once told him was his. He knocks on the door insistently, hoping and praying that Kuro didn't leave, that Kuro won't avoid him and will answer the door.

He knocks again and again until finally it opens. Kuro's standing there in pajama pants and a long-sleeved shirt, and he blinks down at Kenma with red-rimmed eyes. Kenma's breath hitches, when he sees the tear-tracks on his face.

_I wasn't here to kiss them away . . ._

Regret stings sharp in his chest, and before Kuro can say anything, Kenma's stepping forward to wrap his arms tightly around Kuro's waist. Kuro hesitates a moment before holding him in return.

"I can't believe you actually came out here to see me," he murmurs, his voice thick.

Kenma pulls back in order to punch Kuro's arm lightly. "I told you I was always going to be here for you. You should believe your boyfriend."

"Boyfriend . . ." Kuro repeats softly, his eyes falling to the chain around Kenma's neck. He shakes his head. "I don't deserve you as a boyfriend."

"Shut up," Kenma says, shoving his hands against Kuro's chest to back him out of the doorway.

He closes the door behind him with his foot before kicking off his shoes. Looking around the small space, he sees two beds: one made, one not (the made one is Kuro's he knows beyond a doubt). Two desks are set up opposite each other: one clear with only a single laptop in the center, one covered with scattered pieces of paper covered in equations and notes. There are takeout boxes piled in the trashcan in the corner, along with convenience store food wrappers. A portable stove sits on top of a microwave that sits on top of a mini-fridge. On the stove is a teakettle.

"Sorry for the mess," Kuro says, hurrying over to pick up some clothes strewn on the floor to stuff them into a small hamper beneath the desk.

"Kuro," Kenma says, walking over to the made bed. He climbs up onto it, crossing his legs and holding his hand out to Kuro.

Kuro hesitates. "You shouldn't be here," he says, lifting his hands helplessly to the side. "I'm not . . . I'm a wreck, Kenma. You don't deserve me like this."

"I said shut up," Kenma says, leaning forward to grab his wrist. Tugging hard, he forces Kuro onto the bed. He pushes against his shoulders until he lies down. Kuro follows his guidance, but the lines of his face are still drawn, he looks . . . defeated.

"I fucked up, Kenma," he says quietly. "I fucked up so badly . . ."

"You've been running yourself ragged over this stupid project," Kenma says, shaking his head. "Kuro, it's just one project. You'll have more. One mistake isn't going to ruin your entire degree."

He kneels beside Kuro, looking down at him. He places his hand on the side of Kuro's face, stroking his thumb over the line of his cheekbone. "You're not superhuman, Kuro," he says quietly. "You're only human. But that's okay. Because so am I. So are all of us. You don't have to be perfect to deserve love and care."

"I just . . . I want to give you the best I can. I want to give everyone the best . . . it's what they deserve," Kuro says, the tears in his eyes spilling over again. "It's what _you_ deserve."

Kenma shakes his head, moving to lie down next to Kuro. "I don't care what you think I deserve," he murmurs. "I love you the way that you are, mistakes and all. I always have." He leans forward, pressing his lips against the tears on his cheeks, kissing them away one by one, just like he once did when they were children.

"You don't have to hide your struggles from me, Kuro," he says, pressing his forehead against his and closing his eyes with a sigh. "You don't have to hide your demons or nightmares. I want to be here for you through them. You protected me when we were kids; let me protect you now."

"How do you protect someone from dark thoughts?" Kuro asks hesitantly.

"I don't know," Kenma admits. "Loving them?"

Kuro leans back to look at him, studying his face. "Knowing you love me _does_ always makes me feel better," he admits quietly.

"You don't have to carry the world on your shoulders," Kenma insists. "Or at least . . . let me help you."

Kuro lifts his hand to cradle the side of Kenma's face. "I love you so much," he says, his voice breaking on the words, as more tears appear, lingering on his eyelashes.

Kenma presses his lips against them gently, tasting the salt. He kisses down the side of Kuro's face then, taking his shoulder and rolling him onto his back. He moves over him, straddling his waist, pressing one arm against the mattress to hold himself up, while the other moves to Kuro's side, curling into the material of his shirt, as he kisses down the line of his jaw to his neck.

He finds a soft part and latches onto it, sucking hard enough to bruise. He feels Kuro stiffen beneath him, and his hand comes up to lie against Kenma's shoulder, pushing him back. Kenma looks down into his face, waiting for the evitable protest.

"Kenma, I can't—"

"You told me you didn't trust yourself," Kenma interrupts flatly. "But do you trust me?"

Kuro blinks. "Of course I do," he says, his voice hoarse.

"Do you trust me enough to give me all of you? Mind, body, and soul?"

Kuro nods, licking his lips. "Yes."

"I trust you too," Kenma says. "I trust you enough to give you all of me, whether or not you're perfect. Whether or not you're at your best. I'd give myself to you even if you were homeless and eating out of garbage cans."

Kuro can't help but huff a soft laugh at that. "Really?"

Kenma smirks faintly. "Well, I'd make you take a shower first, probably." He plays absently with the edge of Kuro's shirt. "So."

Kuro inhales shakily. "I-I . . . I've never done it before. I . . . I wanted you to be my first." A blush rises on his cheeks, and Kenma's chest swells at the sight of it.

"I haven't either," he admits, ducking his head to hide his own flush. "But I've, um . . . read things. For research."

"You researched porn?" Kuro asks, laughing nervously.

Kenma pinches his side lightly. "I figured . . . sooner or later, I was going to need to be the one to start something," he admits.

Kuro swallows hard. "I'm sorry, Kenma, I didn't mean to make you think—"

Reaching down, Kenma places his finger against Kuro's lips, cutting him off. His heart is thudding wildly in his chest, his blood rushing in his ears. To say he's nervous would be an understatement, but he wants to do this. Kuro needs this. He needs to know how much he's loved, how much he's adored and appreciated. Every single part of him.

Kenma sits up, unzipping and shrugging his hoodie off his shoulders, tossing it aside. Kuro's eyes are fixed on him, teeth gnawing into his lower lip. Pulling off his shirt, Kenma drops this onto the floor as well. Reaching down he tugs on Kuro's shirt. Kuro understands, and he sits up as well, letting Kenma remove his shirt.

Slowly, Kenma runs his fingers down over Kuro's chest, his fingertips trembling slightly. The skin twitches beneath his touch, but it's warm. He presses his hand above Kuro's heart, feeling the rapid beat that matches his own. He bites back a smile, lifting his gaze to Kuro's face. Kuro's watching him, his eyes seeking something, brow still furrowed with worry.

Kenma runs his hand up to hold the back of Kuro's neck, drawing him close for a kiss of reassurance. He moves his lips slowly, pressing firmly, until he feels Kuro start to relax, his lips moving in return. Kenma shifts closer, until the flushed skin of their chests meet. He feels the shiver that runs through Kuro at the contact, and his body reacts in kind. Running his tongue along Kuro's torn and chewed lower lip, he prods gently for an opening.

After a moment Kuro gives it to him, relaxing his jaw and allowing Kenma inside. He licks into his mouth, meeting Kuro's tongue with his own. Almost immediately Kuro moans, his hands coming up and around Kenma to hold him, his fingers pressing into Kenma's back. Relieved that Kuro's actively participating now, Kenma rocks his hips forward, pressing flush against him, the lines of their torsos sliding against each other as the heat from their bodies merge.

The need to breathe breaks the kiss, but Kenma doesn't allow Kuro much of a respite, pressing his lips against his jaw, his ear, his neck. Pushing him back down against the bed, he runs his tongue along the line of Kuro's clavicle, kissing down the center of his chest. His face feels hot, and everywhere Kuro's fingers touch ignites fire on his skin. They run along his back and sides, slipping into his hair, as Kenma's mouth lavishes the skin of Kuro's stomach and abdomen.

"K-Kenma," Kuro gasps, as Kenma rubs the palm of his hand experimentally over the front of Kuro's pajama pants. Kuro's hips twitch, as his breath stutters.

Kenma lifts his head, taking in the flush of Kuro's cheeks, the look of pleasure that's softened his features. Slowly, he rubs his palm against the hardening bulge beneath his touch, watching Kuro's reaction, as he squirms on the bed.

"Ke- _Kenma_ ," he pants, one hand moving to the side to grip the blanket beneath them.

"You like this?" Kenma murmurs, not sure if he should be surprised or not that he's getting such a reaction from Kuro when he hasn't truly touched him yet.

"I think that's pretty obvious," Kuro laughs breathlessly. "Shit. I just . . . I've dreamed about this . . ."

"About me touching you?" Kenma asks softly.

Kuro nods, leaning his head back against the pillow with slight grimace, as Kenma presses harder in his next rub. "Like this?" he murmurs.

Kuro shakes his head. "N-Not exactly."

Kenma lifts his hand away. Taking the waistband of Kuro's pants, he tugs them down, shifting off him for a moment in order to get them completely off and out of the way. "Like this?" he asks again then, trailing his fingertips over the bulge in Kuro's boxers. A wet spot appears, spreading slowly the more Kenma strokes him above the material.

Kuro groans, but his lips quirks into a half-smile. "You're just . . . teasing me now," he manages.

Kenma smirks back at him. "Just making sure I'm fulfilling all your fantasies."

"You already are," Kuro admits.

Kenma's face burns hotter than before, and he ducks his head, not sure how to respond to that. He his fingers hesitate on the waistband of Kuro's boxers, but he reminds himself that it's not like he hasn't seen Kuro naked before. Kuro lifts himself onto his elbows, his gaze focusing some on Kenma's face.

"You okay?" he asks.

Kenma nods quickly and tugs down Kuro's boxers before he can over-think things. Kuro inhales sharply at the sudden breeze, and Kenma watches as his erection springs free, pink and dripping already. With his heart forcing its way into his throat, Kenma carefully wraps his hand around the shaft, slowly stroking up and then back down.

Kuro's thighs quiver, and he falls back against the bed, chest heaving. A groan vibrates through him, and he clutches the sheets once more.

"Fuck. _Fuck_ ," he pants.

Kenma can feel his blood rushing south, and he bites his lip, as he gives the shaft another experimental tug. Kuro's hips twitch. Slowly, Kenma starts works his way up to a steady pace, his eyes roving over Kuro's body laid out before him.

He's beautiful. Kenma's always known that, but in this moment he recognizes it deeper than before. He looks more open like this, Kenma realizes. More . . . vulnerable. His chest aches, and he leans down to kiss Kuro gently. Kuro reaches up to cup his face, moaning into the kiss.

"Shit, Kenma," he gasps. "If you keep this up I-I'm not sure I'm going to last much longer."

Kenma hums softly, releasing Kuro then. His hand is sticky with pre-cum, but he simply wipes it on Kuro's boxers before slipping off the bed. Kuro watches him hazily.

"What are you doing?" he asks, as Kenma makes his way to the dresser.

He opens the top drawer, pushing aside the boxers and socks until he finds what he's looking for. He tears a condom away from its pack and grabs the bottle of lube, turning back toward the bed. Kuro's eyes widen.

"Uh," he says nervously. "Y-you want to go that far?"

"Yes," Kenma says firmly, climbing back onto the bed. "Don't you?"

Kuro nods, but the anxiety doesn't fade from his expression. "I'm not . . . Kenma, I don't have any experience. I don't think I'll be very good—"

"The condom isn't for you," Kenma says, as plainly as he can.

Kuro's eyes widen considerably, and Kenma flushes, turning his gaze away quickly. "I mean, if that's okay," he says, realizing he should probably make sure Kuro's comfortable with this scenario first.

"Are you kidding?" Kuro asks with a shaky laugh. "Trust me, getting fucked by you was definitely one of my fantasies."

Kenma's face burns hotter, but he can't help but feel somewhat gratified. He pulls Kuro's boxers the rest of the way down and off, tossing them aside before spreading Kuro's legs and nestling himself between them. He knows there needs to be preparation, so he squeezes some lube out onto his fingers, rubbing them together to warm before placing his index finger at Kuro's entrance.

"If it hurts too much, tell me to stop," he says, glancing up at Kuro's face.

Kuro nods, throat constricting. Kenma takes a breath to steady himself, before slowly pushing his finger past the resistance up to the first knuckle. He can feel Kuro clench around him. He's tight, so incredibly tight, and Kenma can feel the pulse of his heartbeat in the walls surrounding his finger. He feels a slight throb in his groin, and it startles him. He gasps, and for a moment neither of them moves or says anything.

"Are you okay?" Kenma asks, feeling somewhat dizzy.

"Yeah, yeah," Kuro pants, nodding quickly. "It just feels a bit weird."

Kenma runs his free hand down the outside of Kuro's leg up to his thigh. He gives it a gentle squeeze before proceeding to carefully push in further. Kuro stiffens, and he presses the back of one hand against his mouth, stifling a small cry. Kenma immediately freezes again, but Kuro shakes his head.

"N-No, keep going," he gasps behind his hand.

Kenma hesitates before drawing his finger back until just the tip is still inserted. He thrusts back in again, gently, and this time Kuro's body accepts it easier. He continues this for a little while, still massaging Kuro's thigh with his other hand.

"M-More," Kuro murmurs after a moment.

Kenma draws back to cover his fingers with more lube, this time setting two fingers against the puckered entrance. He resumes the slow pace from before, and though Kuroo stiffens at the stretch again, it seems like he's expecting it better now, and Kenma finds it easier to move more quickly than before. He scissors his fingers experimentally, and Kuro moans louder against his hand. He does it again, pushing in deeper.

"Fuck, Kenma," Kuro says, his breath quickening.

Kenma fights a smile, drawing back to pour more lube over his fingers. He read somewhere that you can never use too much, and he hopes that's true. He slides the two fingers back inside, this time adding a third one. Kuro stiffens once more, and Kenma pauses. Moving his other hand from Kuro's thigh, he wraps it around the dripping length in front of him, twisting his hand slowly. A shudder runs through Kuro, and after a moment he relaxes, groaning low in his throat.

"H-How are you doing?" he asks then, licking his lips. He props himself up on one elbow, blinking at Kenma a little dazedly. "D-Do you need me to do . . . anything?"

Kenma glances down at himself, noting that his own erection is starting to show itself, straining against his jeans. He shifts, not having realized until now how uncomfortable it is. He sits up on his knees, thrusting his hips forward. Kuro understands, reaching forward with shaking fingers to unfasten the front of Kenma's jeans. As soon as his zipper is down Kenma can feel relief. He nods his thanks, not trusting his voice to speak, as he sits back on his heels once more, thrusting his fingers and grasping Kuro more firmly with his other hand.

Kuro falls back against the bed, panting, a few muttered curses escaping.

"Kenma," he gasps after another moment of this.

Kenma pauses.

"Enough prep. I need you."

Kenma's heart thuds in his throat. Kuro sits up on his elbow again, looking at him with such intense fire and lust that Kenma feels his erection throb against its confines once more.

"Fuck me, Kenma," Kuro says, his voice deliciously low despite the tremor that runs through it.

Kenma withdraws his fingers, quickly slipping out of his jeans and underwear, tossing them aside. The relief he feels at no longer being stuck in the pressure of his clothes is amazing. He shivers, as Kuro's eyes roam over his body, never losing that dark look of desire. His eyes are molten gold, hungry, and Kenma's knees feel weak.

For a moment he nearly loses his nerve. For a moment he wants to tell Kuro to take him instead. To fuck him until he can no longer remember his own name. But then he reminds himself that this night is about Kuro. It's Kuro who needs to feel loved and adored and desired. He hopes he can communicate that through his actions.

Crawling forward, he kisses Kuro slowly, deeply. Kuro kisses him back, holding the back of his head firmly. "I love you," Kuro breathes as they part.

"I love you too," Kenma murmurs, turning to grab the condom. Inwardly crossing his fingers that it will fit, he tears it open with trembling hands. He nearly drops it a couple times, but he manages to carefully roll it onto his hardened length. He grabs the lube then, squeezing a generous amount onto his hand before grasping the rubbered member and stroking quickly. At the feel of his own hand he cries out softly, not having realized how desperate his body has been for a touch of some kind.

" _Fuck_ ," Kuro says, his voice strangled, as he watches Kenma tug on himself.

"Sh-shut up," Kenma gasps, his entire body feeling as though it's on fire. He's not sure he's going to last very long himself.

Still, he lines himself up, taking the pillow from behind Kuro's head to place beneath his hips to help elevate him for easier access. He takes hold of Kuro's legs then, spreading them wider, before slowly sliding his hands down to Kuro's hips. He licks his lips, staring down at Kuro and trembling.

Kuro looks back at him, anticipation and adoration evident in his expression. Ducking his head to hide from those eyes, Kenma checks to make sure he's in the correct position, before he cautiously presses forward, pushing into Kuro. With all the lube he applied, he glides in easier than he expected, but Kuro is still tight. He's so tight and hot, and Kenma stifles another cry. Kuro tries to, muffling his against the back of his hand once more.

Kenma pauses, and they both breathe heavily, bodies flushed and quivering. Kuro gives him a nod then, and Kenma slides in further. Kuro pulls at the sheets beneath him, toes curling. Kenma feels his pulse throbbing through his entire body. He's overheating, he's sure of it. The pleasure is intense, unlike anything he's felt in his life. He feels it like electricity tingling along his spine, through his veins, over every inch of his skin.

" _Kuro_ ," he whimpers, unable to help it.

" _Kenma,_ " Kuro groans in return. " _Fuck_."

"I-I'm not . . . I don't think I—" It feels too good. Kenma knows he won't last long once he gets going.

Kuro nods, reaching to take his hand, lacing his finger through his and grasping it tightly. "Then don't," he pants. "Don't hold back. I can take it."

"Are you sure?" Kenma asks, his body aching, begging him to do as Kuro says.

Kuro nods, giving him a quick grin. "Trust me."

Kenma inhales deeply before shoving in the rest of the way. They cry out in unison, and Kenma bows his head, adjusting his stance, widening it. He braces himself on Kuro's thigh with his free hand, holding what he can of it firmly, before pulling back and thrusting inside again in a single motion.

"Fuck!" Kuro yelps, his hips jerking off the pillow.

"Ah!" Kenma's shaking, his body flushed, tingling. He repeats the movement again and again, working his way into a rhythm. Kuro does his best to match it, rolling his hips upward, undulating under him with soft moans and cries that merge with Kenma's own.

Sweat sticks Kenma's hair to his face. He shakes it out of his eyes, however, staring down at Kuro, wanting to watch him, wanting to see him. Kuro's neck is bared, his head thrown back. His chest moves rapidly with his panted breaths, muscles shifting beneath skin with each movement of his hips.

"Kuro," Kenma murmurs. "Ah, nng, _Kuro_."

"Kenma, Kenma." Kuro's hand squeezes Kenma's tightly.

"Does it . . . does it feel good?" Kenma asks hopefully. His mind is a haze of pleasure, but he tries his best to focus on Kuro.

"Nng, shift a little . . . a little to the right I think."

Kenma adjusts, and this time when he thrusts into Kuro, Kuro cries out.

"Ah, yes! there! Kenma, oh fuck. Right there."

Relieved, Kenma nods, thrusting against the spot again, harder this time. The slapping sound of skin against skin grows louder, as he moves faster, exerting every amount of energy he has on making Kuro reach his orgasm.

"Fuck, shit, ah, _ah! Kenma!_ "

Kuro's writhing, his hips rising desperately to keep up with Kenma's new rhythm. Kenma knows he can't do this much longer. Kuro's so tight, his body is so warm, the sound of his cries and moans make Kenma tremble. The pleasure is incredible, and he can feel his climax building, that pressure rising through him, threatening to burst.

Not wanting to come before Kuro, he releases Kuro's hand, wrapping it around his member, which is now slick with pre-cum that's smeared across Kuro's stomach. Kuro bites down on his knuckles, but a whimper escapes anyway.

"Shit, I'm gonna . . . Kenma, I'm gonna—!"

"I know, I know, me too," Kenma gasps.

"Ah, _ah!_ "

" _Kuro_ . . ."

"Fuck! Kenma!" Kuro's entire body spasms. White liquid streams from his slit, splashing onto his chest despite Kenma's best efforts to catch it in his hand. He's uncoordinated, however, because his body chooses that moment to fall over the edge. His hips jerk out of rhythm, as a white-hot light flashes behind his eyes. His entire body tingles, pleasure rushing through his veins.

He tries to keep moving, but eventually his knees give out. He slumps back onto his heels, sliding out of Kuro, who shudders at the sensation. Kenma collapses onto his side, exhausted, his body still twitching in aftershocks.

It takes a moment for him to have the presence of mind to peel off the condom. He ties it off messily, dropping it beside the bed to retrieve later. He struggles to catch his breath, closing his eyes briefly. His mind conjures that image he just saw of Kuro's face, as he reached the peak of his orgasm. His breath catches in his throat, and he opens his eyes.

Kuro's still lying on his back, panting. Kenma forces his body to move, crawling over to his side to flop down. Reaching out, he touches Kuro's chest lightly and the sticky strands of semen still there.

"You made a mess," he murmurs.

Kuro laughs breathlessly. "I _feel_ like a mess," he admits.

Kenma props himself up on his elbow. "Does it hurt?" he asks hesitantly, glancing down before looking back at Kuro's face.

Kuro hesitates before nodding. "I'm sore," he says quietly. "I'll definitely feel it tomorrow. But don't worry about it okay?" He reaches up to touch the side of Kenma's face, gently brushing the sweaty strands of hair behind his ear. "I liked it."

"Do you feel good?" Kenma asks hopefully.

Kuro nods, grinning faintly. "I feel amazing," he says. He leans his head up to nuzzle Kenma's face gently. "Thank you."

"I'll clean you up," Kenma says, knowing he should before Kuro starts to feel gross.

He makes to move off the bed, but Kuro grabs his wrist, stilling him.

"Wait," he says. "Just use the sheet. I don't care. I want you here."

Kenma wrinkles his nose. "That's going to be a pain to clean out later," he says. "And you should shower . . ."

"I want you here," Kuro repeats softly.

Kenma hesitates before nodding. He pulls up the edge of the sheet then, wiping off his hand and Kuro's chest before letting it fall aside. Kuro turns toward him then, and Kenma wraps himself around him, the way they usually do; it feels different this time, though. More intimate. They're naked still, but Kenma finds he isn't embarrassed by it. Things have changed between them, and he can't help but smile.

"What is it?" Kuro asks, his voice barely above a murmur.

"It's just . . . I really wanted this," Kenma admits, staring at Kuro's chest instead of his face. "You and me . . . this feeling . . ."

"How do you feel?"

Kenma contemplates that for a moment. "Safe," he concludes. "Happy. Loved." He tilts his head. "That's how I felt before though. It's just amplified right now. Afterglow, I guess."

Kuro grins faintly. "I feel that too," he says, stroking his fingers through Kenma's hair before trailing the tips of them down the knobs of his spine gently.

"Things are going to be okay," Kenma says firmly, holding Kuro tighter. "You're going to be okay. First thing tomorrow we're tracking down your teammates and making them pull their own weight. If they don't, then we're going to your professor and we're telling him everything."

Kuro grimaces. "That's going to go over well," he sighs.

Kenma kisses his nose lightly. "I'll be with you every step of the way," he promises. "No matter what."

Kuro regards him curiously. "You really mean that, don't you?"

Kenma nods. "With all my heart." He cringes inwardly at such a cheesy statement, but the smile it brings to Kuro's face makes it worth it.

"Now who's lame?" Kuro teases gently, but that stupid grin doesn't leave his face.

"Still you," Kenma mutters.

Kuro moves one hand around to touch the ring that's lying on the pillow between them. "I think . . . you turned out to be the superhero after all," he says quietly.

"I'm not a superhero," Kenma says, shaking his head. "Just a person who loves you."

Kuro grins faintly. "I love you too."

Kenma waits for Kuro to fall asleep first, like he usually does, and as he finally drifts off to sleep himself makes a promise to himself that he'll always be this person for Kuro. That he'll always love him unconditionally, infinitely.

He knows that Kuro will love him the same. From the moment they met they were bound to each other, Kenma truly believes that. And he falls asleep with a smile at the knowledge that they have an entire future to look forward to together.

**Author's Note:**

> http://shions-heart.tumblr.com/


End file.
